3. Chapter Three
Chapter Three
Mia
I bit into the greasiest cheeseburger I’d ever eaten and moaned. Meat. Meat tasted so good. And cheese. The meat and cheese together were heaven. The inventor of the cheeseburger was a genius. Pasha was a genius for bringing this glorious creation to the hotel. He merely raised his eyebrows at my request. Not a single accented syllable in protest or rebuke. Then he’d said he knew “best place,” and he hadn’t been lying.
Denying this pleasure for so long was insanity. I took another bite, chewing slowly, savoring the chargrilled taste. In the summer, barbequed burgers were one of my favorite smells. They reminded me of childhood, of normalcy, of being at a friend’s house in a better neighborhood for a pool party. Of life before the knock on my mother’s door. Why had I given up red meat?
My mother. The answer was always Laura Malone.
And the fucking dietician she hired when she thought I had an eating disorder. I hadn’t been sick. Not really. Had I been developing something ? Probably. Looking back, my relationship to food hadn’t been right. But what teenager could take the constant, unrelenting scrutiny of their body and survive? I’d burst onto the music scene as a plump-faced fifteen-year-old. Ripe for trolls and internet memes and all kinds of other nasty shit. Thinking about those magazine covers made my stomach dip. The criticism still happened, but the jokes were rarely about my weight. Instead, they critiqued a facial expression or a bad camera angle or, in the rare picture, some cellulite.
It became second nature to examine myself in the mirror or to ask my mother whether I looked like a fat girl in skinny girl’s clothes. The proof of my plumpness was splashed across countless magazines, on the internet, on the TV, radio, everywhere. The attention had been so extra. Too much. So, I’d lost the only thing I could—the weight.
I polished off the last bite, wishing I’d asked him to bring two, when a knock sounded on the door. Pasha was the only person who knew I was here. At the door, I checked the peephole. Sure enough, it was him.
“Did you need something?” I kept the open door propped against my shoulder.
“Man from shop here see you.” Pasha threw a thumb over his shoulder. “I tell him wait down hall.”
Around his wide shoulder, I could make out Tyler’s frame in the corridor. I’d used a good chunk of cash to rent out the whole floor. Not that Little Falls was a tourist hub in January, but I’d learned early and often I could never be too careful. One social media post could light a fuse, blow up my life.
I bit down on my acrylic nail and narrowed my eyes. How’d he know where I was staying? Had I told him earlier? I didn’t think so. “What’s he want?”
“Talk to you.”
Hadn’t the text message been enough? At the shop, the woman who kissed him was clearly a girlfriend. If he cheated on her, I’d officially inherited my mother’s poor taste in men .
From down the hall, Tyler held up a paper bag. I frowned. “What’s he got?”
“Cheeseburger.”
“For me?” I turned in surprise toward Pasha.
“Yes. Same place. Same burger. Can’t have just one.”
“All right. I’ll talk to him.” I grinned.
Pasha waved him over, and as soon as Tyler got close enough, I snatched the paper bag from his hand and ushered him into my corner suite. I opened the bag and breathed deeply.
“Huh. He wasn’t lying.” Tyler leaned against the wall after he’d closed the door.
“Who? About what?”
“Your man out there said I needed to get you a cheeseburger as a peace offering.”
With a frown, I unwrapped the burger and took a bite. All my worries melted away, and I closed my eyes with a soft moan. “Red meat is my sin and salvation. Do you think I can turn that into a song?” I hummed a little tune as I took another bite. “What else could be my sin and salvation? I don’t think anyone will buy a song about a burger.” I turned it around in my hands, taking another bite. It was a pretty fucking amazing burger.
“I’m not sure I’ve ever seen anyone that happy for a cheeseburger. Though, I gotta admit, the burgers from that place are better than any of the others.”
“I haven’t eaten red meat in five years. Five years.” I splayed out the fingers of one hand for emphasis.
“Got a craving? ”
I cocked my head and thought about it. That was possible. Could the baby be the one who liked cheeseburgers this much? “Control freak for a mother. Gotta eat them while I can.”
He continued to stand by the wall while I polished off the second burger. I patted my belly and threw the wrapper in the garbage. Across the king-size bed, along the bar area, across the other furniture, and on the desk, I had clothes spread out, trying to decide what to wear tomorrow. Thinking about the procedure made my brain hurt, made me wish I’d never met the man on the other side of the room, never found his voice soothing, his cognac eyes addictive. If not him, the father would have been someone else. At least he hadn’t been an asshole when I’d told him. With faulty condoms, I was lucky I hadn’t become pregnant sooner with someone worse.
“Why are you here? I told you I don’t need your help.”
“I know.” He pushed off the wall and pulled out the desk chair, moving a small pile of clothes. His gaze traveled around.
I wondered if he was a neat person. The store had been well-organized and clean. Didn’t mean he did that.
“So, why are you here?” I asked.
From his pocket, he pulled out a lollipop. Between his fingers, he twirled it, lost in thought before yanking off the wrapper and sticking it in his mouth.
“And what’s with the lollipops?” He sucked on one the night of the benefit while he sewed my outfit back together. I’d assumed it was something they were handing out backstage, not a frequent occurrence.
He twisted the stick in his fingers. “I used to smoke. A lot.”
“And now you eat lollipops like they’re meals. ”
“I rarely finish one.” With a shrug, he took it out of his mouth and dropped it into the bin under the table. “Helps me focus.”
A smile played at the edges of my lips. I’d seen a lot of weird habits in the music industry, but a fixation with lollipops was a new one. If he’d been smoking at the benefit, I never would have gone near him. The stench of cigarettes stuck to everything, including someone’s breath, lingered deep in their throat. Kissing a smoker was like licking an ashtray. Gross.
“I’m going to preface this by saying that if you reject my idea, I’m still coming with you tomorrow. I won’t be an asshole about it.”
“I can’t raise this baby.” I narrowed my eyes.
“You wouldn’t have to.” Tyler rose when I opened my mouth to speak. “Hear me out.”
I closed my mouth and crossed my arms. Where was he going with this?
“I’ve been thinking about this since you came to my shop this morning. I would never have chosen to be a dad like this. It’s not how I thought my life would go. But the baby is here, and if you’d consider it, I’d like a chance to raise him or her.”
“I—”
“Alone.”
I laughed, incredulous. “What? Honestly, how does that work? People would know, Tyler. People would know I was pregnant. I’ll get fat, if nothing else. Whether it’s the right thing or the wrong thing, the media, my fans, everyone would judge the shit out of me. They already annihilate me when I wear an outfit that makes me look fat. Abandoning my kid? Having an abortion? Either of those is career suicide. None of this can get out.” These ideas had consumed my thoughts for the last few weeks, so much so I’d flubbed a few of my songs on stage. Mom had suggested that eighteen months of touring might have been a mistake. But I didn’t want to cancel shows because that would set off an even bigger shit storm. “I still have three months left of my tour.”
“It’s your first baby, so you might not show right away. I did some research on the internet, and—”
“Oh, some internet research? That’s amazing . Did you buy a degree while you were there? Cause I hear they’re worth—oh—I don’t know—absolutely nothing.” I threw up my hands and leaned forward. “No, Tyler. I’m not having this fucking baby and giving it to you. No.”
Both of his hands ran down his face which was pinched with frustration. I tensed, ready for a battle. An argument was brewing.
He clenched his jaw and gave a curt nod. “Okay. I had to ask.”
“That’s it?” I stared. I’d been geared up for a fight. Why wasn’t he fighting? I wanted to fight. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“You said no. I respect that. I understand it. I don’t like it. I wish you’d change your mind or even consider what I’ve said. But I didn’t come here to piss you off.” He wandered closer. His gaze trailed over me, thoughtful rather than angry. “I thought maybe there was a chance you wanted to keep the baby, but didn’t know how. I thought maybe that’s why you told me.”
I reared back and turned away. Had that been why I’d come? My mind spun, caught up in the notion he was right. Not telling him would have been the logical choice. Without meeting his gaze, I said, “How would it work? No one could know. I don’t see how we could keep it a secret.”
“I can’t promise you we can. But I can promise I’ll never ask for anything else from you. Not money. Not time. Nothing. ”
“On the tour alone, not thinking about anything else, too many people would find out.”
“How?”
“Well,” I said, thinking through the logistics. “For starters, when I put on weight, all my outfits will need to be changed or altered. Wardrobe will know. My managers would know. Then my mom would find out.”
His head bent, focused on his long, lean fingers as they tapped the edge of the oversized desk. “I know how to make and alter clothes. It’s what I do. It’s what I went to college to do.”
“And you live in Little Falls.”
Tyler chuckled and our gazes met. “And I have a passport.”
“You want to join the tour?”
“Want is a strong word. Willing would be a more accurate one. I want to raise our baby. I’m willing to do whatever needs to be done to make it happen.”
I sank onto the king-size bed and put my head in my hands. “Tyler, this is insanity. Literally the dumbest idea on the face of the planet.” He could solve the clothing problem. So, what? It was one of about five thousand issues. “You have a girlfriend.” When I glanced up, I saw him swallow. “I saw you with her. She looked happy. You’re probably happy. This would—I mean—you’d have to tell her.”
He pulled another lollipop out of his jacket pocket and twirled it around. “We’ve only been dating a few weeks. It’s not serious. We’ll break up. I won’t tell her. I’ll have to tell my family, but they can keep a real secret. I know what you think. But quite genuinely, they won’t tell anyone.”
My mind churned worse than when I first discovered I was pregnant. There’d been no question what I needed to do. What I had to do. How could I keep the baby? Was Tyler’s idea possible or was I fooling myself? “I’m like two-and-a-half months pregnant right now. At the end of my tour, I’ll be five months pregnant. Almost six months!”
“What are you supposed to do when the tour is done?”
“No idea. I haven’t asked. I can’t think about it, or I’ll go insane.” I looked at him, weary over the thought of what else was probably booked—talk shows, social media events, private concerts, and who knew what else. There were no brakes on the money train, just me, sliding along the rails.
“Name a reason you’d scale back, cancel everything.”
“Death. Death would be the only reason.”
“I’m being serious.”
“Me too. I don’t cancel. I don’t check into the hospital for exhaustion. I’m on so many immune boosters I rarely get sick. I’m the product. I’m the brand. I can’t afford to go down.” I shook my head. “I can’t do it. I just…I can’t. It wouldn’t work. I’d never get these years back.”
Tyler didn’t say anything. He eased down on the bed beside me and passed me a lollipop.
I read the label. “You have the weirdest flavors. Blueberry jasmine?”
“It’s calming.”
With a laugh, I eyed him. “Do you really think it’s possible to hide this baby? Really?”
“I’m not going to lie to you. It’d be easier if I said ‘yes, it’s possible.’ Easy, even. You’re half-convinced, aren’t you? One big lie from me and I think you’re all in.” His gaze met mine, and I was reminded again how pretty his eyes were up close. A little piece of me thought I could get used to this view, these eyes, this man.
“Lie to me. ”
He chuckled and broke our eye contact to stare down at the lollipop he twirled between his fingers. “It’ll be easy. We’ll lie to everyone else, but never to each other.”
“Could that be true?” My voice was hushed, wistful in the quiet of the hotel room.
“Say ‘yes,’ and we’ll make it true.”
Tears filled my eyes as I searched his face. He had a nice face, so open and sure of himself. I could see why he had a girlfriend now, why I’d been so drawn to him the night of the concert. There was so much kindness, and it had been so long since a man I wasn’t paying had made me feel important, like my ideas and opinions were important.
“What if I say no?”
“I won’t think any less of you. The risks for you, your career—I get it. I’ll do whatever I can to protect you. But I might not be able to. I can’t guarantee anything.” His lips quirked up in an almost smile. “But I’ll do my best.”
I shifted my gaze to the ceiling and focused on the decorative swirls above. Did I want an abortion? No. But I didn’t want to be pregnant either, wasn’t sure I could handle the storm that would roll in if my mother found out, if the press got hold of the secret. Either way, I would carry this decision for the rest of my life. Another truth I’d bury. But which secret did I want to keep?
“You’ll raise the baby?”
“I will.”
“And if I don’t want to be involved? ’Cause right now I don’t. I can’t. It’s not in me to be a mom.”
“I’ll understand.”
“What if I do? What if I change my mind and I do? ”
He held my gaze for a beat. “I’d never cut you out. Never. No matter what.”
I searched his face, trying to decide how honest he was. In his hands, I’d be putting my career, my life. The lives and careers of so many people who worked for me would be balanced there too. In my gut, I realized either decision would divide my fan base, probably outright destroy most of it. My career would be in shambles. Could I trust him? Sincerity was written across his face. He meant it—at least in this moment, he meant it. His conviction would have to be enough.
He was close to his family, Grady approved of him, and kindness oozed out of him. If I’d had to pick someone for this baby to live with, I couldn’t have done any better on such short notice. All of those things made him better than the woman who raised me.
Taking a deep breath, I tapped my lollipop to his. Yanking off the wrapper, I popped it into my mouth. “I guess we’re doing this, then. I don’t know what the hell will happen,” I gave him a sideways glance, “but we’re in it together.”